The Quiet Tide
The world subtly bends toward those who align with the sacred rhythm.
The Cycle of Becoming turns, shaping souls by their deeds,Yet the Mothers know the longing of the conscious heart:To seek, to question, to cry out into the vast hush of the world.
Though they do not command nor carve fate in stone,Their hands can further brush the loom of chance,Tilting the unseen balance, nudging the course of the ever-flowing stream.
So it was in ages past, and so it is now:When hearts align with their essence, the world bends in quiet ways.A burden lifts, a door swings wide,A light endures where all seemed lost.
Not as payment, nor as proof, but as harmony answered;A soft echo in the turning tide.For those who shape, who seek, who sustain,Walk where the Mothers’ current flows deepest.
And the Mothers whisper: walk in tune with the sacred,And the tide may carry you farther than you dreamed.